Whitney G.

Two Weeks Notice

My cock has an appetite.A huge and very particular appetite: Blonde, curvy, and preferably not a fucking liar...(Although, that's a story for another day.)As a high profile lawyer, I don't have time to waste on relationships, so I fulfill my needs by anonymously chatting and sleeping with women I meet online.My rules are simple: One dinner. One night. No repeats.This is only casual sex. Nothing more. Nothing less.At least it was, until "Alyssa"...She was supposed to be a 27 year old lawyer, a book hoarder, and completely unattractive. She was supposed to be someone I shared law advice with late at night, someone I could trust with details of my weekly escapades.But then she came into my firm for an interview--a college-intern interview, and everything fucking changed...**Book 1 in a three part Erotic Romance Serial.**

Reasonable Doubt

Forget You, Ethan

Sincerely, Carter

The Office Party

Strap yourself into the cockpit for the 'flight of your life' via the newest erotic romance from New York Times bestselling author Whitney G....Jake Weston and I met under a cloud of cliches: Boy meets girl. Boy charms. Boy screws girl.He was the sexiest, cockiest man I'd ever encountered, but I had no idea he was a senior pilot when we met. No idea we worked for the same airline and had secrets just like me.After a passionate night of unforgettable sex, I thought I'd never see him again, but when I did, neither of us could walk away...We weren't supposed to be together, we definitely weren't supposed to fall in love, and yet our turbulent and forbidden love affair took on a life of its own.We knew we could potentially crash and burn, but what we had was so intoxicating and inescapable that we were both willing to risk it all...This is us.This is our messed up love.This is Turbulence.

Turbulence

Can I Come Over?

On a Tuesday

"Lean back on the table and spread your legs for me ..." Being a doctor in New York City has never been easy. Especially for someone like me, who has a private practice and an incompetent staff who insists on leaving me to fill in for them. Over the past six months, I've performed one too many pap smears, three too many "breast exams," and scrubbed in on several reconstructive surgeries. (This would be acceptable, if I was still interested in general medicine, but I'm not. I'm supposed to be a goddamn therapist ...) When my team finally came to their senses and decided to bring someone more competent into the practice last month, I was actually elated. Until I realized that our new "doctor" was none other than the woman I was supposed to meet for dinner two weeks ago. The same woman who stood me up with nothing more than an "I can't meet you anymore, sorry," after we agreed to move our online talks into reality. I haven't forgotten any of the filthy fantasies she told me about, and I never deleted our dirty messages. And if she thinks that I'm going to act like a "professional" and pretend like that shit never happened, she has another thing coming ...

Dirty Doctor

**Note: This is not a standalone or a novel. It's the previously unpublished epilogue to "Sincerely, Carter"**Just friends. We're just friends. No, wait. We're no longer just best friends...

Sincerely, Arizona

Today is officially the worst day of my life... I woke up five hours late after a reckless one-night stand with the sexiest, cockiest, and most arrogant man I've ever met. (And this asshole actually left a note: I think you were lying to me about being "experienced" last night. You orgasmed three times, and that was before we made it to your bedroom. I also find it hard to believe you "usually wear silk or lingerie." Your drawers are all full of cotton granny panties--The best man you've ever fucked...) My top two clients for my PR company left to my number one competitor, my roommate 'accidentally' bleached my favorite suit, and my favorite coffee shop was shut down for "health concerns." Still, none of those things dimmed my excitement for what was supposed to be the best four o'clock signing session of my career. I was on the verge of signing the highest paying client in my company's history, taking on a so-called "impossible" job that no publicist had been able to handle. But at four o'clock, there was no athlete, television personality, or celebrity. Instead, that sexy, arrogant one-night stand stepped into my office with a familiar smirk and introduced himself as my new, cocky client...

Cocky Client: A Novella

The man I fell in love with is a f-cking liar... I don't have much time to reveal all the details, but I will say this: The "Woman disappears after wedding" and "Woman flees after honeymoon" headlines are lying. I'm not missing. I didn't run away after my wedding. I would've never run away right after our amazing honeymoon. My husband has taken me. No, correction: He's kidnapped me because he claims that "its what's best." That I'm a mere pawn in his twisted game of chess. Despite the fact that my heart is still tethered to his, or the fact that he's still the most gorgeous and beautiful man I've ever met in my life (he can still make me wet with a single sentence), I have to focus on getting away from him. I have to accept that he's no longer the man I fell in love with. He's the king of lies... King of Lies is the first episode in the Empire of Lies series.

King of Lies

Break Up with Him, for Me

Late Night Kisses

On a Wednesday

Carter y Arizona

Can You Handle It?

Nunca debería haber aceptado ese acuerdo… Hace treinta días, mi jefe —un tiburón de Wall Street— acudió a mí con una oferta que no pude rechazar: poner mi firma en una línea de puntos y fingir ser su prometida durante un mes. Si accedía, podía rescindir mi contrato laboral con una indemnización por despido «extremadamente generosa». Las normas eran muy sencillas: prohibido besarse y tener sexo. Solo había que fingir que nos queríamos ante la prensa, aunque desde el día que lo conocí siempre había deseado borrarle esa estúpida sonrisa de superioridad de la cara. Lo cierto es que no tuve que pensármelo dos veces. Firmé y comencé a contar los segundos que me faltaban hasta librarme al fin de su chulería de alta gama. Solo aguanté un minuto… Nos peleamos durante todo el viaje de cuatro horas hasta su ciudad natal y no conseguimos dar una impresión convincente ante la prensa que nos esperaba. Pero lo peor fue que, justo cuando iba a arrancarle aquel gesto arrogante de la cara, se quitó la toalla de baño delante de mí, a propósito, y me dejó sin palabras con su miembro de veinte centímetros, para «demostrarme quién era el más importante» en nuestra relación. Después me dedicó su estúpida sonrisa de suficiencia de nuevo y me preguntó si quería que consumáramos lo nuestro. Y lo peor de todo es que ese fue solo el primer día. Todavía quedaban otros veintinueve por delante…

Novio por treinta días

Me llamo Andrew Hamilton y soy uno de los mejores abogados de Nueva York. No puedo perder mi tiempo con relaciones románticas, por lo que cubro mis necesidades saliendo con mujeres que conozco de forma anónima a través de una web de ligues. Tengo un gusto muy particular: rubias y curvilíneas, que a ser posible no sean unas jodidas mentirosas (aunque eso es otra historia). Mis reglas son muy sencillas: una cena. Una noche. Sin repeticiones. Se trata solo de sexo. Ni más. Ni menos. Por lo menos se trataba de eso hasta que conocí a «Alyssa». Yo pensaba que era una abogada con la que intercambiaba opiniones jurídicas a altas horas de la noche, alguien con quien hablar… Pero, de repente, se presentó en mi bufete para una entrevista… Y todo cambió.

Whitney G.

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